


rainy cakes

by emissaryarchitect



Category: Ava's Demon
Genre: F/M, i have a lot of AU's where ava owns a shop
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-04
Updated: 2016-07-07
Packaged: 2018-07-20 01:22:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7385317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emissaryarchitect/pseuds/emissaryarchitect
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ava is kind to a familiar stranger.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Most days, the cheery yellow glow of the summer sun gave Ava’s cake shop a welcoming and excitable atmosphere, with the scents of sugar and sweet treats swimming out the front door, luring in customers – however, today was not a cheery summer day.

Today, rainclouds had gathered like a culmination of dark bruises in the sky, murky blues and smudging greys rumbling ominously. She had seen lightening flash and the power to the bakery had flickered, so for safety’s sake she had shut off the power and was using the traditional stoves to keep the bakery and the treats warm. Sure enough, lightening clapped in the distance and the block went dark.

Ava thought it was exciting. She loved storms, and the power outages weren’t really a problem to her. They were just another continuation of the lovely storm, and she lit a few candles. They weren’t entirely needed, as the sun hadn’t yet set completely, but it was dark enough that the gentle orange glow gave the bakery an inviting atmosphere.

Even with those little perks, the only people who came into her bakery had ordered in advance, and she sighed. She would have to close up, soon – that meant she had barely sold anything new today. Tomorrow, she would have to start knocking down the prices of the older cakes.

Thunder roared and she felt shivers, smiling. When would it start to rain?

As though hearing her excited thoughts, icy rain started to patter over the streets. She watched as people hurried past, dark shadows in grey as the rain began to swell. Lightening flashed again and the rain began pounding at her roof – she closed her eyes for a moment, dozing.

The bell to her door rattled and she sat up, blinking when she saw the customer was a man she had seen many times before. He had black hair, which was now stuck flat to his head with how drenched he was – his cheeks were too gaunt, too pinched and pale for her liking, his lips beginning to turn an icy shade of blue – and his eyes were dark and clear as a river in moonlight.

She didn’t know his name, but he had passed by the shop many times, always throwing his head back and taking in the sugary scents with great gulps of air, as though every scent was as precious as a whole cake. He never came into the shop, but he always stared at the confectionaries inside with something like longing, before leaving – she had decided a long time ago she liked this person, and for the first time, he had entered her shop.

He was shivering badly, closing the door shut as the rain waterlogged the windows, the outside barely visible through the damp streaks across the glass. He finally turned, and seeing her, he froze.

She blinked once before turning, taking the clean towel she had hung by the woodstove and tossing it his direction.

“Take off that hoodie,” she ordered neutrally “and dry off.” She hopped off her stood and watched from the corner of her eye as the stranger wrenched off his soaked hoodie and revealed a dark shirt underneath, clinging to his thin frame with how sopping it was. She turned around and heard him strip the shirt off, twisting the water out of it, and she kept herself preoccupied – she pulled out a saucepan and filled it with milk, boiling it before pouring the contents into a mug and stirring in processed cocoa and melting chocolate.

Taking another cursory glance, he was still shirtless, but was holding the previously mentioned clothing out in front of the wood oven, warming it. As he did so, she sliced off a piece off the older cakes, a chocolate and marble cake, setting the generous portion onto a plate.

“Sit,” she said aloud gesturing to a nearby stool, and the man put his shirt back on – now drier – while he dried his hair with the warm towel. Curious, he sat down, and she presented the hot cocoa and the slice of cake, with the seemingly neutral words “It’s on the house,” before going back to her stool in the far corner.

Ava brushed her hair back, paging through a cookbook she had bought earlier, dog-earring the pages that had tips or interesting recipes, and when she glanced up and saw he hadn’t touched either the drink of the cake, she said aloud “If you don’t eat it I’m throwing them away.”

He startled, before slowly taking the fork and sampling the cake. Looking over the edge of the book, she was delighted by how his eyes lit up at the flavor, and tried to hide her satisfaction through humming softly to herself, looking back into the cookbook but not reading at all, her entire attention absorbed at her guest.

His eating was somehow both rushed and slow, as though he was eager to savor every bite. Her eyes lingered on his thick lashes, on pale lavender veins like watercolor trails underneath paler skin, and she pulled her eyes back to the door, staring at the rain.

He eventually finished his cake, sipping the warm cocoa slowly, both hands around the mug. The tips of his fingers were flushed from the cold, and she was glad to see his lips had returned to a livelier shade.

“I see you outside my bakery sometimes,” she spoke aloud, softly, not wanting to shatter whatever moment of tranquility she had given him. Ava’s eyes were still fixated on the book in her lap, but she saw the stranger’s head whip around to look at her in astonishment. “Is the cake good?”

The muffled crackling of the woodstove was the only reply for several long minutes, the outside rain only white noise as she awaited a response.

“…Y-Yes.”

Ava smiled timidly, the expression exclusively given to the stranger with dark glassy eyes and skin pale as a wraith. His own expression mirrored hers, and she looked back out towards the drowning streets.

“I-I’ve… b-been around y-your shop,” he said aloud, slowly, his words gentle and low as a lulling tide. “N-Never inside, though. I d-don’t like th-the rain.” He paused, taking in a shaky breath, before continuing “It’s p-pretty cold outside.”

“You can sit by the woodstove, if you’d like,” she offered, tearing her eyes from her book to look at him again. He set the empty mug down and sat on her stepstool, back almost touching the metal of the woodstove but not quite.

After several minutes, he dozed off, and Ava allowed herself the pleasure of watching his peaceful slumber for a few minutes – the gentle rise and fall of his chest, how color bloomed in his thin cheeks from the warmth – she was glad she could affect this person in such a way.

The rain wasn’t letting up at all. She stood and reached over the counter, grabbing his hoodie, and she hung it on the towel rack by the stove to dry.

The rain was so soothing. The subtle breathing of the stranger combined with the crackling of the stove was her lullaby, and soon enough Ava had fallen asleep.

xXx

Odin’s eyelids fluttered open at the crack of thunder outside, accompanied by the bright flash of lightening, like great electric serpents striking the earth. He shifted, his back hurting from sitting in a strange position, and he recognized the bakery from the dim candles.

The kind baker had fallen asleep, the nearby candle illuminating her sleeping face, scarlet hair piled around her shoulders as her book was crumpled underneath her crossed arms. She slept so softly, so trustingly – any other person would steal what she had in the register and ran, but looking up she had even hung his hoodie to dry.

He had seen her so many times through the windows of the bakery, the flash of fire behind glass as she worked. Of course, coming from a hungry home, the smell of sugar was always a tempting lure – but it was really the flash of her bowstring smile and her bright eyes that had caught his attention.

If he was smart, he would take what she had and ran away.

As he gently shook her awake, he decided he was not a very smart man. Her eyelids fluttered as she rubbed her face drowsily, yawning sweetly – her gaze focused on his face and she blinked a few times before sitting up. “Oh, did I fall asleep? I’m sorry,” she apologized, pulling her hair from her face “yikes, I really need to close up,” she muttered, looking to the clock on the wall, before turning her gaze back to him.

He froze for a moment, enraptured by how she smelled so sugary and sweet, by the color of roses in her cheeks as she asked worriedly “Do you need an umbrella?”

He opened his mouth to speak before she interrupted “Wait, I think I have a spare in the back,” and she hopped down from her seat to go and fetch it. Odin automatically grabbed onto her wrist as she passed, and she turned in confusion – her hair draped across her shoulders as she asked “What is it?”

“Wh-What’s… Wh-What’s your name?”

She stared at him for a moment, eyes searching his, before replying in her sugar soft voice “Ava.”

“Ava,” he repeated quietly. “I-I’m Odin.”

She turned around completely, and he realized how warm she was in comparison to him, and he moved to drop her wrist as she stepped forward. “ _Do you_ need an umbrella?”

He nodded – she was so close, her face was close and her skin smelled like sugar, and he wondered if her lips tasted like cake too before he turned and faced the storm. Ava left to the back room, to go get the extra umbrella, and he grabbed his toasty hoodie.

She returned, and he heard the crinkling of a bag – she handed him a frilly pink bunny umbrella and a plastic bag. He took both, the umbrella with an inkling of embarrassment that this would be protecting him from the elements, but he hesitated at the bag.

He opened the umbrella and walked out as she killed the fires and locked up the bakery.

“Wh-What’s in the b-bag?”

“It’s on the house,” she winked, before flipping open a green and red strawberry umbrella and skipping her way through several puddles.

Curious, he opened up the bag and spotted a few more pieces of cake, wrapped in clear plastic, with a note taped to the top – it appeared to be a phone number with the words “ _text me.”_

He smiled to himself goofily before walking home.

xXx

Ava decided she missed the rain. The next day, everything was sunny and sparkled against the lingering puddles, and he had no fewer and no more customers than the day previous.

Sighing, she continued to flip around her cookbook, when the bell to the door rang. She didn’t look up, opting to pull her hair out of her face and say aloud “The cakes in the front are fifty percent off.”

“I th-thought they were on the h-house.”

She blinked twice before dragging her view up to her customer, taking in his dark hair and lopsided smile. Astonishment colored her expression as she exhaled a soft “oh.”

“I w-wanted to th-thank you for the c-cake,” Odin began, wringing his hands together. “M-My sisters r-really liked it.”

She smiled brightly, nodding. “I’m glad!”

“I’m n-no good at b-baking, but I w-was hoping to g-give you something s-sweet in r-return for the c-cakes.”

Ava glanced up to him in time for Odin to stoop down and plant a kiss on the right side of her mouth, slipping something into her hand in the process. She went rigid, and in her daze he twirled around, pulling his hoodie over his head and evacuating as though he just stole something.

She opened her hand and found a crumpled piece of newspaper with a number scribbled on it, and she blinked at the words that accompanied it.

_“I don’t have a cellphone. Here’s my home phone number.”_

She laughed to herself and slipped the note into her pocket.

Maybe today wasn’t so boring after all.


	2. chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> requested part 2. ill probably polish it up later

Odin visited often.

In theory, calling each other was an easy way to communicate, but in reality Ava had been greeted with varying voices of his equally irritated siblings over the phone, two of which who tried to flirt with her. In hindsight, she should have expected that from the family of someone who was willing to strip down and dry off in the front of a bakery, but she hadn’t thought about it much at the time.

Now, though, he didn’t get to see the charming baker she tried so hard to be – at the moment, she was rubbing her face and sighing hotly at the customer over the phone.

“I don’t make triple tier cakes to get exposure, I don’t care how popular you are,” she snarled over the phone, slapping a hand on the clear plastic counter. “I don’t _care_ how rich you are – if you’re all that wealthy, then _pay_ for your goddamn cake!” With that she slammed the phone back on its receiver and rubbed the bridge of her nose in frustration, feeling a headache come on.

“H-Hard day?” She snapped up to see Odin was standing in the doorway, pulling his bangs back from his eyes. Her stiff composure relaxed and she rubbed her forehead.

“You have no idea. I keep getting calls from different people who want my cake but don’t want to pay – exposure my ass,” she mumbled, and Odin chuckled. She wasn’t sure what he did for a job, and she never asked – from his expression, he was glad of that – but now he had a little money to pay for the cakes he had such a sweet tooth for.

They hadn’t discussed his impromptu kiss since it happened, and like now, Ava felt the subject was burning holes in the atmosphere. She was scribbling down other orders as Odin sat down, and he kept opening his mouth a little as though to speak, but stopped mid-sentence or thought better of it – she wanted to grab him by the shoulders and shake him till the words tumbled out, but she wouldn’t.

Instead, she pulled out a cloth and a cleaner bottle and started polishing the windows. Appearance was half a business, after all – she could see people passing by as she wiped down the glass, leaving clear streaks across the glossy surface. It hadn’t rained in a while, but there was freckles of dark clouds in the sky suggesting it might make another appearance when night descended. She stared at the sky for a moment, before someone walked in.

“Ah – welcome to my bakery,” she greeted, before feeling a sliver of dread creep up her spine.

The newest visitor was one she had seen on several occasions, who had sampled much of her work and was perhaps one of her biggest buyers. They were as sharp and precise as a tool of war, and they did not display an aura of being a suave business holder, but something far more sinister – the Strategos tipped their white hat up with the top of their cane, looking out from beneath a shadowed brim, and smiled a little.

“Ire. There’s a celebration being held in honor of my Boss’ anniversary in the company – I take it you can provide?” They always spoke so clinically, but Ava exchanged information with them and she was commissioned to bake another cake. Like a white ghost, they vanished as quickly as they appeared, with only the smell of chemical floor cleaner and a list of instructions left to suggest they were in the shop at all.

Odin looked up from where he had been eating his slice of cake. “Wh-Who was th-that?”

“Popular buyer,” she sighed, looking over the ingredients. Some of these would be easy to get, like the fine sugar and creams – but blackberries weren’t even in season in this part of the state, so she’d have to order in. Hopefully the Strategos gave her enough funds…

“Th-They seemed c-creepy.”

Ava laughed a little, tucking a lock of scarlet hair behind her ear. This wouldn’t be an easy order by any means, but she needed the money – Odin shrugged a little at how her expression dropped looking over the specs.

“At l-least its n-nothing shady,” he noted, sticking the last chunk of cake with the end of his fork. “L-Like… b-baking people into the c-cake or s-something.”

She scrunched up her nose and snorted. “Ugh, as if – I’d charge extra for murder.”

Odin laughed.

One he was done with his cake, Ava shooed him out, insisting that she had work to do – and she did, baking the cakes would take a while, along with ordering in the ingredients – so he left with little urging.

While she was cooking, she had an accident.

xXx

Odin wondered how Ava was doing with her order. He knew that coming from someone who wore such a finely trimmed suit, that it must’ve been something big, but he wasn’t sure how big until two days later he walked in to find a huge cake towering far above his head. It was pure white, and dusted with light blue powdered sugar, with blackberries and blueberries adorning it. Little curls of cream tipped every few inches, and he could see her sitting on a tall stool, applying little fondant patterns across the sides.

“H-Having fun?”

She blinked and turned to him, bright eyes focusing on his face. “Ah, as if. It’s pretty hard getting all the details,” she replied aloud, and it was then he noticed the slim white bandages around her hands, wrapping around her knuckles snugly. Her fingers trembled a little when she pressed the fine fondant into the sides, and he couldn’t stop the pang of worry that shot through his stomach.

“Wh-What happened to y-your hands?” without realizing it he had slipped behind the counter to examine her closer, and she pulled away a little with a blush dusting across her cheeks.

“Nothing much. I overheated the far oven trying to bake the cake, and it ended up lighting on fire – I got the cake out and then put it out, but alas,” she continued dramatically, trying to cover up the severity of the situation “at a cost.”

“Are y-you… okay?” He hadn’t meant to sound so concerned, but he did, and Ava’s expression softened to a smile so delicate his chest squeezed painfully at the sight of it.

“I’ve gotten burned worse before,” she assured sweetly. “I’ll heal up fast.”

He talked with her for a little bit, and he was always shocked at how she always seemed interested in what he had to say – whether it was about the strange stray dog he saw yesterday, or how weird kids’ books were, she was always eager and willing to participate in conversation with him.

Eventually, the bandages were covered in a fine layer of sugar, and she had to change them. Odin offered to help, unwinding the cloth from around her hands, and found angry enflamed silver scorches over her fingers and palms, blisters over the pads of her fingers, and he winced at the sight of it. As he wrapped them up with fresh covers, he considered how soft her hands were, how small and dainty – in a story, she would be the princess.

Would he be her knight? Not likely – it was her who rescued him that day, from the storm.

Still, if he had the opportunity to be her knight, he would accept gladly…

“Uh… Odin? What are you doing…?”

Odin snapped his eyes open and pulled away. Without thinking about it, he had wrapped up her hands and brought her left hand up to his mouth, where he kissed her knuckles as a Knight would, and he instantly flustered.

“I – uh, s-sorry,” he brought his hand up to the back of his neck and patted it nervously, trying not to look at her face “I sh-should go – uh, sorry ag-again,” he apologized, and he fled.

Ava was left alone, and she wiggled her fingers. Her hands felt hot and seemed to tingle slightly from where he had kissed her hand sweetly, and she wondered if she should’ve just kept quiet to make the moment last longer.

**xXx**

Odin had visited the next day, and although it was awkward at first – Ava kept rubbing the tops of her hands anxiously and he kept looking away – they had slipped back into their usual routine not long after.

The cake was huge. Odin had circled around it a few times, finding more and more details to look at every time he moved. There were little glittering mice painted into the sides, little pale blue fondant roses garnishing the top layers, along with edible metallic looking beads in clusters to make the edges shine – he really wanted to eat it.

“Is my order finished?”

“As you asked,” Ava gestured to the cake grandly. Odin backed up as the Strategos circled around it, like a predator looking for some strategy of attack, before nodding in approval.

“Your pay,” they handed her a check, which she slipped into the front pocket of her apron “also, my boss has offered an invitation for you to come along to the party he’s holding.”

“Oh?” Ava asked, her question neutral as Six’s people came in and carefully carried the cake to their car “I’m not really interested…”

“It’s going to be a large celebration.”

“Parties aren’t my thing,” she continued, backing up a little.

“I’m sure you would enjoy it,” they continued, bright blue eyes boring into hers, before Ava felt a slim hand cup around her waist and pull her close.

“S-Sorry, sh-she’s busy t-tonight. We h-have a date.” Her ears were ringing from surprise – she had been rescued by a Knight, it seemed – and Six only glanced up at Odin once before saying aloud “Ah, I see. The offer stands if you get bored – excellent work, Ire,” before they left.

Ava found this to be a comfortable position, with an arm around her waist and her being pulled up so snugly to Odin. She could feel his chest against her shoulder, and how uneasily he was breathing – he moved to pull away and she asked “So, where are you planning on taking me for that date?”

He cleared his throat, pulling away – a fine blush traveled up his throat and set fire to his cheeks. “I – ah – I was j-just making up a st-story for you s-so th-that they w-would stop b-bugging you.”

“So you _don’t_ want to go on a date with me?”

“No. I m-mean, yes – ack,” he put a hand on his face and ran it down his nose, and at such a dejected and confused expression she laughed a little.

“You know, if they happen to visit the shop tonight while I’m still here, not on a date, they’ll drag me off to that corporate party for ‘ _exposure_ ,’” she said aloud, reaching forward and pulling Odin’s hands away from his face.

His mouth twisted from worry. “I’m n-not… r-really g-good at d-dating.”

“You only get better with practice,” she replied smoothly. “Besides, the worst that happens is that you get a little burned.” She wiggled her bandaged fingers and he finally cracked a smile.

“Y-You s-serious?”

She frowned. “You don’t kiss and run, Odin,” she scolded, pulling his hands down all the way and setting her own on his shoulders. “That’s just rude – I don’t like being teased, not at all.”

He ducked his head a little, silent, and for a moment she wondered if she had pushed too hard, if she had applied pressure at the wrong places, before he finally looked up with a sly smile. “I g-guess y-you’ve got me p-pegged. So; a d-date, is it?”

“Yes.”

He pulled pushed his fingers through her hair and pecked a kiss on her lips, a light gesture, but she still flustered all the same. “Al-Alright. B-But we h-have a p-problem.”

“What?” she asked, pulling back with another frown threatening to crack her charming blush.

“If y-you make the b-best desserts in t-town, h-how am I s-supposed to get you any g-good sweets?”

“Well,” she smiled and looked up at him from beneath thick lashes “you’ll just have to give me something differently sweet in return.” In referencing his first flirt with her he chuckled and untangled his arms from around her so she could close up.

As she predicted, the clouds were swelling in the distance and the sky rumbled softly as storm clouds culminated above the shop – but this time, Odin and Ava did not part ways as they left the shop, instead sharing an umbrella shoulder to shoulder as they fled the scene.

Odin’s hand fumbled clumsily to wrap around Ava’s, his larger palm wrapping around her tiny hand gently in an attempt not to irritate her enflamed and damaged hands – he wasn’t a noble person, not really – his job was questionable, he ate cake to ignore his urge to smoke, his dark eyes and darker garb pegged him as a criminal – but for once, maybe this one time, he was the Knight for a sweet baker girl.

For that, it was enough.

He brought her hand up to his lips again and pecked another kiss on her knuckles and he cherished the way her eyes lit up at his affection.

He had surely found something sweeter than the cakes at Ava’s shop, and that was the baker herself.

 


End file.
